No.

I agree with Aureate.

No commision(In In game currency), I'm not writing.

Hey, Luguiru's a writer!

This.

Actually, I've been meaning to write more often myself. And I figure, why not fic? Although I'm crippled by an affliction of Purple Prose (the doctors say there's a balm for that), I'm actually very interested in some of the major literary work of the past two or so centuries and try to read as much as I can (despite the end product). So, the Alpha Squad story being a brilliantly intriguing matter, I figured I'd knock something quick out to see if it's the kind of thing you're looking for:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. The galactic year 1866 was marked by a bizarre development, an unexplained and downright inexplicable phenomenon that surely no one has forgotten. Haven was an old town; somehow, it was hotter then. The denizens moved slowly then. They ambled across the Town Square, in and out of the stores around it, took their time about everything. A day was twenty-four hours long but seemed longer. there was no hurry, for there was nowhere to go.

But it was a time of vague optimism for some of the knights; the Spiral Order had recently been told that it had nothing to fear but fear itself.

- - - - -
I've also composed some passages for when (I believe) Alpha Squad is captured by the horrifyingly sentient Swarm:

Rulen couldn't move. He couldn't tell how long he had been here, or where "here" was, or who belonged to that strange, lilting voice, so hauntingly familiar...

"The rule of the Swarm is forever...." from the darkness, the voice came again. Rulen tried to marshal his thoughts. They had to be the right thoughts. That was important. He had to say the right thing, like they wanted him to. A dark figure came closer to the bound knight. "For ever!" it repeated. "And now let us get back to the question of "how" and "why". You understand well enough HOW the Swarm maintains itself in power. Now tell me WHY we cling to power. What is our motive? Why should we want power? Go on, speak," it added as Rulen remained silent.

Rulen was too disoriented. He tried to anchor his thoughts to something, like his training, like his memory of Isadora... "You are ruling over us for our own good," he said feebly. "You believe that Isadoran knights are not fit to govern themselves, and therefore--"
He started and almost cried out. A pang of pain had shot through his body.
The figure had pushed his armour's energy systems up to maximum.

"That was stupid, Rulen, stupid!" it hissed. "Now I will tell you the answer to my question. It is this. The Swarm seeks power entirely for its own sake. We are not interested in the good of others; we are interested solely in power."

- - - - -
Oh and this tidbit, I was thinking of Grantz in FSC:

The darkness closed in; perhaps it was his body giving itself up, or the Swarm claiming it. Or perhaps it was the oppressive knowledge that the dream - the dream of a future for the Spiral Order, of answers, of seeing Isadora, of seeing the sky, of knowing the wind once more - lay dying in the stale, baking air. He smiled, though, despite himself; remembering the Spirit Mother's promise to them, to her brave rescuer knights - a promise that the rock of the world was founded securely on a fairy’s wing.

Now he could hear the comforting susurration of the trees on Isadora, of the grasses on the open training plains, calling him, the sparkling green jewel of his world shining like a beacon...the dream seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. So we beat on, he thought, ships against gravity, borne back ceaselessly into the past...

And only the dead dream fought on as his energy slipped away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room.

- - - - -
Not all knights in Alpha Squad were taken at once (although I personally like to believe they'd hold together against all odds as a unit, it makes far better dramatic pacing to string it out just a little, and allows for a bit of character development in and out of adversity and different circles wherein the knights of Alpha Squad might show a different side, a different thought pattern - I'd like to flesh this out further):

She staggered to her feet, tensed for more terrors, and looked up at a huge plumed helm. It was a white-topped helm, and above the grey shade of the visor was a crest, a Knight symbol, white and crimson bunting. She saw cobalt steel, epaulettes, a handgun, a cape of white draped down the front of a cuirass.

A Spiral Order officer stood on the rubble, looking down at Euclid in wary astonishment. On the platform behind him was an elevator, its control panel open and being worked on by two Tech Knights. In the nearest corridor another knight held a Callahan.
The susurration faltered and died away.
The officer looked at Euclid doubtfully for a moment, then took his hand away from the butt of the handgun.

The afternoon beat on, the knights of Delta Squad marking cargo and relaying tactical and intelligence developments. A number of them checked up on the leader of Alpha Squad, sitting mute by a comms console. They smiled, gave encouraging words, and assured her things would be sorted with the reinforcements arriving soon. But Euclid was in a strange, somewhat subdued mood after the encounter with the shadows.

"I thought what I'd do was, I'd pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes," she spoke up suddenly.
Delta Squad leader Grist looked up quickly from his commlink. "I'm sorry?" he said, concern edging his voice. Squad Leader Grist was a stern but not unkind knight, and the distant look in Euclid's dulled eyes was troubling him.

"That way I wouldn't have to have any goddam stupid useless conversations with anybody," she blurted out. There was an expectant pause among the squad. She tittered. Grist risked a knowing smile. Euclid laughed again, louder, and with a brittle edge. Grist tried to calm her, at first laying his heavily gloved hand upon her pauldron, then barking orders to the field medics as her laughter became manic. She was trembling now, and to her ears, each shriek rattled off the walls and into the waiting mouths of the Swarm.

[Last-minute editing for typos, as you do.]
- - - - - - - -
In conclusion to these efforts (I had fun but it did take me a while), please reconsider your actions. Try to consider what it would be like around here if everybody took the same action as you have, disregarding good analysis and critical practice, then showing this galling level of laziness. It seem to be largely avoided in this section of the forums - so please, try a moment or two of reflection next time you think of posting.

If you want a picture of the general forums, imagine a boot stamping on a human face--for ever.

Damn, where did my metal stomping boots go?

On a more serious note: the OP asked for fanfics in the wrong forum when there are perfectly good ones available. I would be willing to provide him with one if he was asking for something other than, roughly translated, 'hey can I plagarize your shiz'.
'Galling' would be a fitting term to describe this.

"The rule of the Swarm is forever...." from the darkness, the voice came again. Rulen tried to marshal his thoughts. They had to be the right thoughts. That was important. He had to say the right thing, like they wanted him to. A dark figure came closer to the bound knight. "For ever!" it repeated. "And now let us get back to the question of "how" and "why". You understand well enough HOW the Swarm maintains itself in power. Now tell me WHY we cling to power. What is our motive? Why should we want power? Go on, speak," it added as Rulen remained silent.

Rulen was too disoriented. He tried to anchor his thoughts to something, like his training, like his memory of Isadora... "You are ruling over us for our own good," he said feebly. "You believe that Isadoran knights are not fit to govern themselves, and therefore--"
He started and almost cried out. A pang of pain had shot through his body.
The figure had pushed his armour's energy systems up to maximum.

"That was stupid, Rulen, stupid!" it hissed. "Now I will tell you the answer to my question. It is this. The Swarm seeks power entirely for its own sake. We are not interested in the good of others; we are interested solely in power."

^^ Taken right out of George Orwell's '1984'. Amazing.
I'm sorry, just wanted to say that.